


a vignette

by natantrash



Category: Satan and Me (Webcomic)
Genre: Cannabis mention, F/M, Intoxication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natantrash/pseuds/natantrash
Summary: Just a lil somethin from comic #265 “We Need to Talk.” Focusing on Lucifer’s emotions, as is my usual jam.





	a vignette

Lucifer was beginning to lose his patience. Why did none of these recipes work? He figured he wouldn’t have hit it on the first try, but he thought he would have had some progress by now. He turned his attention toward the girl on the bed as she giggled softly. She talked about how “tingly” the beverage made her feel, and his mind momentarily drifted to the times he had to babysit her while she was drunk. He would give anything to be back then again.

He inched toward the bed, moving slowly so as not to startle her. She was in the happiest mood that she’d been in since she came back from Hell, and he didn’t want to ruin what little gains he had made towards winning her over. She snuggled into the pillow she clutched as he softly pressed his arms into the mattress. He brought his chin to the sheets and tilted his head in an attempt to make eye contact with her, but her eyes barely opened. He ignored the dull ache in his chest when she asked him who he was. At least this time she didn’t run from him at the mention of his name.

A strand of her red hair draped across her face as she slurred about rainbows. He fought every instinct to reach out and tuck the hair behind her ear. Instead he focused on quietly asking her questions, hoping to provoke some form of recognition. He maintained his composure as she rambled about casinos and his eyes instead of answering his questions. Lucifer wondered if he had included cannabis tincture in this particular cocktail.

She moved quickly, suddenly reaching over his body and asking for more “loopy juice.” He was glad that he was faster, so he could both stop her from tumbling off the bed and keep the cup just out of her reach. His breath caught in his throat as her nose and lips brushed the side of his face close to his ear. “I do remember something. Wanna hear?” she said, very comfortable with her proximity to him. “I’ll trade you.”

Lucifer tried to ignore the goosebumps traveling up his scalp and down his limbs as Natalie brought her arm around and cupped his face in her hand. He gently maneuvered his face to look at her, careful to make sure that their lips did not touch. As he pulled his face from hers, he found himself missing the warmth of her closeness. “You’re pulling my leg, you liar.” He was very aware of his own arm resting against her leg, but he was reluctant to pull himself away from her any further.

Natalie insisted that she was telling the truth, and he sensed sincerity. Lucifer’s stomach dropped to the floor as Natalie said that she remembered “being sad at a bus stop.” He was mentally transported to that day when he pulled her along to confront Pestilence. That was also the day that she said that she loved… that she loved…

Did she still? Lucifer told himself that he was doing this to make her whole again, but there was that awful Hell-shaped voice in his head that reminded him that he was doing this for himself. To find out that if she still loved him, as she said she did weeks ago. Before he fucked up and got her killed.

Hard realization came crashing down as he remembered that he didn’t say anything to her that day. After she professed her love to him he just… said nothing. And let her talk. All at once Lucifer felt like an idiot. Is this what she’s sad about? Does this mean that she could still…? Does she remember that much? A dry lump grew in his throat as he realized what he needed to do.

With growing reluctance, Lucifer turned to look over his shoulder at the oblivious girl on the bed. “…Kid. We need to have a quick talk about something.”

**Author's Note:**

> I probably would have edited it further, but when I saw that I naturally hit 666 words when I stopped, I knew I had to leave it as-is.


End file.
